Infinite
by BittersweetSummer
Summary: New Years 2010. A tribute to a year's worth of Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley, and all of their possibilities.


_The things that could have happened (and the ones that did) in the story of Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley_

_(It's up to you to decide which ones are which)_

--

"I hate my name."

His voice is weighed down with a sorrow that one can only find in war-ridden veterans, or death-ridden relatives. It's a sorrow that Rose sees in her Grandmother Weasley's eyes when she thinks that nobody is watching, or the look in Uncle Harry's eyes whenever he saw Albus playing with the big black dog they had adopted just recently.

It is not a sorrow that belongs to a thirteen-year old boy.

Especially her best friend.

"It's only a name."

She wishes that she could help him more, but she knows that to the rest of the world, her words aren't true at all.

He smiles weakly at her, and Rose's answering grin stretches across her whole face.

The next words come from her heart.

"That's all it'll ever be to me."

* * *

They never speak to one another.

They are nothing more than classmates. Because in their separate worlds, Malfoys don't talk to Weasleys, and Weasleys don't talk to Malfoys.

Doing so would disturb the balance of the world, the established order, the _standard_.

And they couldn't have _that _happening, could they?

* * *

"_Weasley and Malfoy are in fierce pursuit of the snitch. The teams are tied. This determines the outcome of the game, everybody!" _

The words of the stupid commentator barely register in their minds, as well as the roar of the crowd below, shimmering silver-green and red-gold.

Only one thing mattered: the snitch, the game, the glory, the victory.

_(Okay, maybe more than one thing.)_

"Malfoy, prepare for defeat."

He smirks.

"Don't delude yourself, Weasley."

He glances over at her the same time she looks at him devilishly. He blames the following events on Rose, and how pretty she looked, even when covered in sweat and grime.

He also blames his ability to be an absolute dolt in times of pressure.

"Say, Weasley. Would you care to go to the dance with me?"

Her eyes flash, and she lunges at him unexpectedly, almost knocking him off his broom.

"_What the_—? Er, _everybody please remain calm while the Griffindor seeker attempts to snog the Slytherin seeker."_

* * *

"_I-I'm sorry, Scorpius. About what I said."_

"_My own father, Rose? You know how I feel about that."_

"_I didn't know that__—"_

"_That what? That I was _listening _while you insulted my family?"_

She doesn't reply, looking down at the hem of his robes instead of his grey eyes, filled with betrayal.

"_What kills me is the fact that you'd even say that in the first place."_

And he walks away quickly, swiping at the traitorous tear in his eye.

-

He never forgives her.

* * *

"Hey—Rose!"

Her eyes are questioning when she stops to wait for him, and he's never felt so nervous in his life.

"Rose."

"Scorp."

Her smile is easy, carefree. He wants to see that smile more often.

"Well, I was wondering if…"

…_you would go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday._

Nine words. _Nine _words, and he'll know for sure how she felt.

_What if she didn't feel the same way?_

"Scorp? Are you feeling okay today? You're all red."

_She doesn't feel the same way, probably. Wouldn't she have figured it out by now? _

Her eyes are large and concerned. If he had looked harder, he would have found something that would have given him a little more hope.

The expression in her eyes was _affectionate._

"…Nevermind."

He smiled reassuringly.

They could just be friends. Nothing more.

He would just keep it easy.

Keep it _safe_.

* * *

Rose Weasley hated the rain. She hated the wet. Hated the cold.

She stomped through yet _another _puddle and huffed angrily, trying to shield herself from the merciless raindrops while muttering angrily to herself.

So imagine her surprise when the aforementioned raindrops ceased to fall.

Rose looked up, stupefied, at the underside of a handsome green umbrella.

There was only one stupid prat at Hogwarts who carried such expensive umbrellas.

"Malfoy."

The silvery-haired dolt smiled charmingly down at her, and she felt her stomach churn, despite itself.

She'd rather deal with the rain at the moment.

Malfoy smirked as she stomped ahead of him, getting even more soaked in the process.

"You don't want to do that, love."

He received a glare in response.

Rose heard the twat chuckle as he easily caught up to her.

"Don't be such a sore loser, Weasley."

"You were just lucky," she grumbled, adding words under her breath that did not sound complimentary.

"Oh, Rose."

She looked up, surprised at the laughter in his voice.

And with that, he kissed her under the cover of the umbrella. It was an awkward kiss, not like the ones in storybooks or cheesy romance novels, but it was perfect in its own way.

He spared her one more glance until he turned around and walked away, whistling, with the rain falling around him.

Rose touched her lips and smiled when she realized that she was now holding the green umbrella.

Only Scorpius Malfoy could make the rain bearable.

* * *

She smiled blearily, tracing his words with her fingers as she tried to memorize them.

_I'll be back as soon as I can. Your dad's alright; he sends his love. Harry says the same, and to make sure that Lily and James aren't getting into trouble. Somehow he thinks that Al will be able to behave himself. I can't help but agree. _

It took her three months before she was able to actually read the letter, and even after all of that time it felt as if there were a hole punched into her heart. She can't help being angry at him, for taking a part of her and never giving it back.

_It's hard, Rose, and sometimes I wish that you were here with me. Your uncle says that you'd make a brilliant Auror. I miss you, and I'm counting down the days until we see each other again. (I know that sounds cheesy, but I can't think of any other way to describe it.) Hope to see you soon._

There is only one more line, but she can't bring herself to read it. Her head is swimming, reliving memories that tear her apart all over again.

"…_horrible accident…Head Aurors lucky to be alive…poor thing…about to get engaged…family in shambles…so young…full of promise…"_

She feels her eyes prick, but no tears come. There are no more.

She summons the Griffindor in her, and gathers the courage to read the words that will never be said aloud again:

_I love you, Rose Weasley._

* * *

There is no relationship after Hogwarts. Their lives are too busy; they're focused on more important matters now.

Scorpius is working his way up to becoming Head Auror, after previous Heads Weasley and Potter retire. It's a long and terrible journey, but he rises from the ashes of his family history, making the name _Malfoy_ prominent, if not as illustrious as _Potter _or _Weasley_.

Rose is the Head of the _Prophet_, attempting to make the news as unfiltered as possible, to amend for the mistakes of the past. At first, she is successful, but every day it becomes harder to tell the world what was _really_ happening. The Dark Ages are over, but there are still horrors that she doesn't want people to hear about.

(After all, what people don't know won't hurt them.)

It was illogical to pursue a deeper relationship with each other, and it was a mutual decision to end it after seventh year.

But sometimes, when they're sitting alone in their apartments or spending time with happily married friends and relatives, there is an aching feeling slowly awakening, manifesting itself when their minds aren't occupied with work.

They wonder if they had missed out on something wonderful in the making.

* * *

Rose hates weddings. She hates the happiness, the squealing, the poofy dresses. She hates how her dress makes her chest look even smaller than it already is.

She only attempts to enjoy herself because it's her cousin Lily's wedding. Lily's always been the one who came over with ice cream after a breakup, who agreed with her that boys were all idiots, who assured Rose that staying single was better in the long run.

Lily was a hypocrite.

She had _fallen in love._

Screw trying to enjoy herself. She hates Lily at this moment.

Which is why she finds herself sitting at one of the stupid fancy tables, staring at her distorted reflection in the stupid polished wineglass before she is rudely interrupted.

"Conceited, much?"

She'd recognize that snarky voice anywhere.

Only _Lily _would invite her _ex _to her _wedding._

She snarled the name.

"_Malfoy_."

"Last name basis again? I thought we left that back in fifth year, _Rose._"

"I see you're still quite the charmer, _Scorpius_."

He scowled, and his next words made her see him in a clearer light.

"I hate weddings."

Rose stared at him for a full minute, before shrugging and practically tackling him to the floor with her enthusiasm.

They resurfaced (after quite a while) and he looked at her like he'd been whacked in the head by a Bludger.

"You yell at me one minute, and the next, you're snogging me in front of all of your relatives?"

"You enjoyed it."

And he gives her that smoldering look that makes her wonder _why _they even broke up in the first place. She's pretty sure that she's turning the same color as her hair.

"Yes I did, actually."

They go at it again.

-

"I've missed you, Rose."

"Same here, Scorpius."

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy discovered that he was not one for New Years parties.

They were crawling with needy, desperate girls and Firewhiskey bottles littered all over the floor, with drunks stumbling around, vomiting into the nearest planters.

Every year he had to find at least _one _sane person to talk to, and every year, the only other sane person available was _her._

"How's your year been, Weasley?"

She snorts.

"You aren't very good at starting conversations, are you?"

"I try my best."

"That's what worries me."

And it continued all night. It wasn't very different from their other conversations, except for that _one moment_.

He always _hated _the awkwardness that came with the New Year countdown, when they just sat there and looked at each other before continuing their earlier conversation while other couples attempted to eat each others faces off.

So this year, when the time came, he stared at Rose Weasley for a split second before ducking down and bringing his lips to hers.

He had had many kisses in his lifetime, but compared to _this _one, they didn't matter at all.

Because _this_ was worth all of those years of awkward silences and sarcastic conversations. Merlin, he would have tried this sooner if he'd only known.

And Rose just sat there, stunned, her blue eyes shining, while he smiles at her, feeling giddy for possibly the first time in his life.

"It wouldn't be New Years without you, Rose Weasley."

* * *

**Grr. I tried to compress all of my love for Scorpius/Rose in this one huge oneshot, but I'm afraid my efforts might have turned on me. **

**I'm sorry if you experienced any whiplash from the emotional changes going on in this story. It was meant to portray the _possibilites _that Rose and Scorpius had; whether romantic or otherwise. I would have written a lot more, since there are infinite possibilities for this pairing. :)**

**Thanks for sticking with crazy me for a whole year of Scorpius/Rose love. Especially my lovely reviewers. You guys are awesome. **

**Happy New Years, all. **


End file.
